Harry's Summer Dream
by mage50049
Summary: Please send more feedback. I need to know if people like this or not before I continue
1. Chapter One

Chapter 1- Summer Dreams

He was standing in the veil chamber once again. Sirius was standing only 2 yards from him, in front of the veil.

"Harry, how could you have let this happen? Why didn't you save me?" said Sirius in a questioning, sorrowful voice.

"I-I couldn't have..." Harry tried to reply, but was unable.

With as outstretched hand and a fearful look, Sirius began to fall backwards, through the veil.

"Noooooooooo!" screamed Harry, stretching out a hand of his own, attempting to lunge, though he found his legs unmovable. "Sirius, come back!"

Despite his efforts, his legs stood paralyzed. "No, Sirius, don't leave me!"

At that moment, the veil began to slide aside. "Sirius?" Harry said desperatly hoping.

As the veil slid further aside, it revealed not Sirius, but Voldemort, his evil red eyes flashing with malicious mirth at the sight of Harry, and the terrified look on Harry's face.

"You see," hissed Voldemort as Harry doubled his efforts to free himself. "Even in _your_ dreams, you are powerless against me."

Harry wasn't listening, though if he had been the word 'dreams' might have seemed strange. Suddenly, Voldemort began to laugh insanely, a laugh sounding like thunder. Voldemort pulled out his wand, still laughing, and pointed it at Harry.

Just as a jet of green light flashed out of Voldemorts wand tip, Voldemort's thunder-like laugh was replaced by real thunder, and the sound of rain pounding on Harry's window.

Harry had been having these dreams, or dreams very similar, all summer. He had told all his friends, and they all said the same thing, that it is to be expected after what had happened.

Harry, however did not feel guilty, or even sad most of the time. He most commonly had felt a kind of numbness. An absense of feeling. He had eaten little more than he needed all summer. He had not talked aloud to anyone but hedwig, and then rarely. He new the Dursleys were suspicious, but it did not register very much. He had even stopped counting down the days till his return to Hogwarts.

He seemed to cut himself out of the real world, submerged constantly in his own thoughts.

Harry, seeing it was only 3:00 a.m, layed back down and futily attempted to grasp sleep once more. So it was, when his alarm went off at 7:30 a.m, his body felt tired, even though his mind was to busy to.

Harry was about half way into his summer when something happened that brought him back to reality. He had been lounging around unconciously in the back yard. Suddenly, he heard someone shout, "STUPEFY!" from across the yard.

Even in the state of mind he was in, Harry had great reflexes, developed by his hours spent on the quiditch field. Harry dived out of the way as a jet of crimson red light streaked dangerously close to his head, making the hairs on his neck stand on end. By the time he hit the ground, Harry had his wand out and had pointed it in the direction the shout had come from.

No one was there. Harry lay there for 5 minutes before he decided to get up, still pointing his wand at that same spot.

"What the devil is going on here boy, put that bloody thing away," spat Harry's Uncle Vernon in a hushed voice as he, so as not to attract to much attention, as he led Aunt Petunia, and Dudley Dursley out onto the lawn.

" I was just attacked, but now my attacker has gone," explained Harry, still sparing only a seconds glance for Mr. Dursley.

"A-Attacked?! What the bloody hell do you mean, Attacked?" replyed Uncle Vernon, still keeping his voice just above a whisper.

"What does it usually mean when someone is attacked," said Harry in an expressionless tone as he cautiously moved forward to check the spot he still kept his eyes on.

"You don't think, the man, could still be here, do you?" said Dudley Dursley, Harry's cousin, in a fearful voice, inching back towards the house.

"It is possible, but not likely. If he or she was still here, they would have attacked again, no doubt." Harry said.

"Aren't you supposed to go to some blasted friends house soon?" asked Uncle Vernon, the eagerness for Harry to leave apparent in his voice. "Your enemies are starting to endanger my family again, just like last summer."

Harry had to think back to the last letter he had recieved from Mrs. Wesley.

Dear Harry,

Hello Harry, just thought I'd write you

to tell you, that Dumbledore says we can come

and get you on June 30th. It will be nice to see

you again.

Sincerely,

Mrs. Weasley

P.S. You'll be happy to know that we have

most of the cleaning done, so you will be

able to relax, no cleaning.

"Yeah, actually, they'll be here tommorrow, to escort me," Harry said, with some satisfaction at the terror in his aunt and uncles eyes, regathering the Harry that had been suppressed in thought all summer.

"H-H-Here!?" yelled Uncle Vernon in a outraged voice with a hint of terror. "And when exactly were you thinking of telling us about this? I wont have any sneaky buisness like last summer, or any horrible, disgusting gags _your _people find amusing involving swelling tounges, or demolishing living rooms and what not."

Harry was starting to think of Sirius again, but he didnt want to. He made an effort to force those thoughts to the back of his mind. "I actually forgot for a long time, if you absoltely must know," replyed Harry coldly.

"Watch your tone, boy. Your freaky friends might have your back, but im sure i can do a lot to you before anyone gets here, and it wont be pleasant," said Uncle Vernon in a soft but still threatening voice.

"Your empty threats dont phase me, and I will not be intimidated by the likes of you," replyed Harry, temper rising.

Uncle Vernon was turning red and then to purple at an almost alarming rate. He tried to speak, but was to enraged to mutter anything.

"It's probably best you cant speak, Uncle Vernon, because if you could, you would probably say something you'd regret."

Finding his voice, and forgeting to keep it down, Uncle Vernon screamed, "FIRST you speak to me in such a disrespectful manner, and now YOU threaten ME!?"

"No, uncle, I promise you. If you continue to treat me like you usually do, I will scream to high heaven and tell the entire neiborhood my secret, lets see how your friends and neighbors feel about that," said Harry in a calm voice that reflected the confidence he felt, making all the more impact on the Dursleys.

All the Dursleys paled at these words, even Uncle Vernon. They looked so comical with their pale horror-stricken faces that Harry almost laughed. He walked past them into the house, leaving them staring at the door.

Now that he was in the safety of his room, Harry had new things to brood over, such as, how had someone been able to get past his guards and watches to attack him. He was sure that he had been protected more than that this summer. He found himself still thinking about it when he nonchalantly began to pull on his pajamas and prepare for bed.

As he layed down on his bed, his scar began to pulse with a tinge of pain, as it had much of the summer when he found himself trying to clear his mind of emotion as instructed by professor Snape last year. He could feel sleep begin to take him again, he was a little excited to be leaving tommorrow, but he quickly smothered the emotion, and was left with an almost empty head when he drifted to sleep, though the little bit of emotion he left was enough, because he had another veil dream that night.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2- The Return

He woke up in a cold sweat that morning, the early light of the crack of dawn creeping through his window. He reached tiredly over and turned off his alarm. He had again woken earlier that morning at about 2:45 a.m., and once again, he was only able to find to a restless sleep, filled with nightmares, normal ones this time.

He lay there for about half an hour, and as the sun crept slowly across his room, his memories began to crash back, the attack on him yesterday, the Dursley's rage, and fear, (more at the thought of a wizard at their home then at Harry's life being at risk), and finally Mrs. Weasley's letter. As he sorted through all his memories, he remembered. Today was the day, today he was going to return to number twelve Grimmauld Place. He was going to see Ron, and Hermione. He was going to be with his real family again. He was going to go home, to the wizarding world.

With this joyful thought in mind, Harry jumped from bed, and hurriedly began rounding up his belongings, his clothes, books, parchment, and stacking them neatly in his trunk. When he was finished, his room looked bare, despite all of Dudley's old broken things. He set to hauling his trunk out of his room, into the hallway, and down the hallway towards the stairs. Just as he was passing Dudley's room however, the door swung open, and Dudley, in all his bulk and muscle, stood in the doorway, looking at Harry with a smirk on his face.

"Here, let me help you, to get you out of our house quicker," sneered Dudley, as he pushed Harry aside, and picked the trunk up in both hands with ease. Still smirking, he said in a voice etched with false fear, carrying down to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's room, "NO! HARRY, YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO!"

Just then, Dudley hurled the trunk over the side of the railing, and Harry instinctively pulled his wand out of his pocket, and ran to look down after it. What came next happened very fast.

Just before the trunk hit Aunt Petunia's prized antique lamp, it stopped in mid air, the door to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's bedroom banged open, and they both stood in the doorway, in their night cloths, looking horror stricken. They ran to the railing and looked down where Harry and Dudley were looking. If possible, their looks became more horror filled as they watched the trunk float sideways of its own accord and set down softly. Dudley, also horror stricken, looked sideways at Harry, and as if he just realized he were there, jumped back. Harry didn't even notice, a thousand things were running through his mind at once. Had he done it? If not he, who? Would he be expelled? What would the Dursley's do?

Then, all these questions were answered. "Harry? Harry, how did _that_ happen?" asked professor Dumbledor, coming into view from the hallway. Harry felt like jumping over the rail himself to get to Dumbledor. Instead he simply ran full speed to the stairs, took them three at a time, blowing past his aunt and uncle, who were staring at Dumbledor, and down the hall to Dumbledor. Then he flung his arms around him, taking him by surprise.

Remembering himself, Harry let go and stepped back, muttering "I'm sorry professor."

"That's quite alright Harry," replied Dumbledor. "So, I take it that you are ready to depart." Harry shook his head vigorously.

"I thought so." He then turned to the Dursleys. "Vernon, Petunia, hello," he said inclining his head slightly to each in turn. "Will you please allow me to take Harry now?" he asked politely.

Without speaking, and looking flushed but no longer horror stricken, they all nodded there heads slightly.

"Well, Harry, I guess we should be going, I believe they expect us any minute."

"But, professor, how will we be going?" asked Harry.

"I have brought an extra threstral for you," answered Dumbledor.

Harry's heart sank just a little. The last time he had ridden threstrals, it had been a very uncomfortable night, and it had ended with Sirius...

_Don't think about him now, you should be happy, you're going back._

Dumbledor seemed to have heard Harry's thoughts, because he said, "Do not worry Harry, I think you'll find this ride more enjoyable in the daylight and with the specially made saddles."

"Professor, isn't their another way we might travel," asked Harry.

"But of course, Harry, if you do not feel up to the long ride, we could take floo powder. We have the floo network watched with hand picked people now, so it is quite safe. Is that what you want Harry?"

"Y-Yes please professor," said Harry, feeling a little ashamed of his own unwillingness to ride the threstrals.

"Very well, I will unsaddle the threstrals and send them back to Hogwarts. I will be back directly."

Harry wondered vaguely how Dumbledor planned to get the threstrals back without them being seen. He pulled his trunk into the living room in front of the electric fireplace. The Dursleys came in together and sat on their couch, watching Harry with cold eyes, their fear apparently overcome for the moment by their hatred of Harry.

Then, Uncle Vernon's face lit with a sudden understanding, and he spoke out, "Wait just a minute their boy, how exactly are you going to leave. You by god will not use our fireplace again. I remember what happened last time, and I will not have it."

Dumbledor came into the room just then. "Is their a problem, Mr. Dursley?" he said in a gentle tone, leveling Uncle Vernon with a stare from those radiantly blue eyes.

"Yes, actually," replied Uncle Dursley, apparently less afraid of a man seemingly towards the end of a long life, but still with as polite a voice as he could manage. "I refuse to let you, _people_, use _my_ fireplace to do, whatever it is you are going to do."

"Well, Mr. Dursley, if it is your wish that we do not use your fireplace, we of course, will not, but I will have to stay here several days so I can contact someone to arrange transport for young Harry here," replied Dumbledor with a sly smile. Harry of course knew, that Dumbledor could easily arrange transport in several hours, rather than several days. But by the look on Uncle Vernon's face, Dumbledor's plan had worked.

"Well, I suppose it would not inconvenience us too greatly to allow the use of our fireplace for you."

"Thank you very much. Harry, I had the Dursley fireplace figured into the floo network before I came, in case you wanted to go this way. I will stay behind and come directly after you ok?"

"Alright professor, but professor, they have an electric fire..." began Harry, but he was cut of by a kind of screech like that of metal on metal as Dumbledor pulled the electric fireplace out by magic. He then shoved a fistful of floo powder into Harry's hand.

"Go on, Harry. I'll put this back and apparate behind you."

Harry walked to the fire place, and then remembered, "Professor, the fireplace will not hold my trunk, Hedwig's cage, and myself."

"Go, Harry. I will bring your things."

"Ok, thank you professor," said Harry. He threw the floo powder into the fireplace before him, and as the flames turned green, he stepped in. He screamed, as clearly as he could, "Number Twelve Grimmauld Place!" He felt the familiar sensation of spinning past hundreds of fireplaces, and then, he stepped out, into the kitchen of what he thought must be number twelve Grimmauld Place.


End file.
